Kenopsia
by seilleanmor
Summary: Just playing with Cops & Robbers. What happens if Kate admits to needing Rick, and he leaves the bank to be with her?
1. Chapter 1

**kenopsia**

_n. the eerie, forlorn atmosphere of a place that__'__s usually bustling with people but is now abandoned and quiet__—__a school hallway in the evening, an unlit office on a weekend, vacant fairgrounds__—__an emotional afterimage that makes it seem not just empty but hyper-empty, with a total population in the negative, who are so conspicuously absent they glow like neon signs._

* * *

><p>The prevailing word of Richard Castle's consciousness this morning, the small cluster of letters tracing pathways through the vastly rolling landscape of his brain, is <em>ugh<em>. Banks in general bore him - too much seriousness and the expectation of adult behaviour and he hates having to justify his impulse purchases - and once you throw his mother and her stubbornness into the mix he is rapidly losing any and all sense of duty that may have convinced him to join her for her trip to boredom central this morning.

"This is outrageous, sir! You are nothing but a well-dressed loan shark." His mother is saying, and really. He knows she's an actress, but this is an entirely unnecessary amount of melodrama. Especially for this time in the morning.

Over coffee at the kitchen island, she had asked him to come with her to the bank and he had grumbled and groaned, stared desperately out of the windows of the loft as the sun struggled its way up and over the horizon, but he had agreed nonetheless.

Annoying as she may be, he does love his mother. Although he truly doesn't understand why she asked him to come if she's just going to shoot down his every suggestion.

For his part, the bank manager looks just as world weary as Rick himself feels. Mr Davenport is a good man, didn't judge Rick when he had to explain that the 'anomalous purchase' that cropped up in his accounts was his own slice of the moon to call home, but even his patience is wearing thin. "Ms Rodgers, I assure you, this is a very competitive interest rate considering your financial history. However, if your son co-signs-"

"Yes." Rick blurts out, sitting up straighter in his chair. Please, let him cosign and have this be over.

Yeah. That's mostly wishful thinking. "No, no, no, no. This is _my_ loan, not his, to pay for repairs to _my_ acting studio, not his."

"If you could just let me co-sign the loan, or I could just give you the money." He pleads with his mother, half wanting to take her by the arms and shake her.

"Richard, I'm a business woman now. I do not want your money, I do not want your signature, thank you very much. It's the principal."

"No Ms Rodgers, it's the interest."

"And I've just lost mine; excuse me." Rick says, standing up from his chair and heading for the door with a wry grin circling at the corners of his mouth. He's pretty proud of that one, it must be said.

He debates for about half of a nanosecond, and then he tugs his cell phone free from his pocket and does what he always does when he's bored or lonely or - embarrassingly frequently lately - overwhelmed with love. He calls Kate Beckett.

It rings once, his heart swelling right along with the dial tone just at the prospect of speaking with her. He is truly the most pathetic being on the planet, but he can't help himself. And then she answers, her voice in smooth layers of deliciousness.

"What do you want, Castle?"

Oh, so many places he could take that. He wants them. He wants to kiss her, every morning. To open his eyes and face the day with her plastered against his side. That seems a little much for over the phone though, so he decides he can make his point - _please rescue me_ - and also mess with her just a little bit.

"Tell me you need me."

There's a pause, a barely audible gasp, and he imagines the way her eyes widen and her lips part and how is it that she can take him apart with desperate need even through a phone call? "I- yes. I need you, Castle."

She. . ._what_?

"I just meant that I was hoping there was a murder we could be solving to rescue me from being at this bank with my mother." He says into the phone even as he strides towards the frosted glass doors of the building and bursts through them into the brilliant sunshine of a day where Kate Beckett needs him. "But I'm on my way, Beckett. I'm coming."

"Oh, no, Castle. It's just paperwork. Not any less boring." She hastens to explain, but he hardly even hears it. Leaning back against the concrete edifice of the bank, he closes his eyes and presses his phone even tighter against his ear, wanting to finish up their conversation before he heads for the precinct.

Oh, he should stop for coffee too. "You need me, Kate. I'll be there in twenty minutes." He moves for the step, lifts his foot to descend onto the first one when there's a strange clanging sound from behind him, like an iron bar striking against the door.

"Huh." He says, mostly to himself. When he turns back around the door is closed, and he can see shadowy outlines moving around inside.

"What?"

He takes a few shuffling steps sideways, enough that he can see in through one of the enormous, full length windows. These are not frosted, offering him a completely clear view of-

Oh. Shit. There are four people in doctor's scrubs, ordering people down onto the ground, and each of them has a gun. Rick shoves his free hand down into the pocket of his jeans, forces himself to stay exactly where he is; even he isn't foolish enough to walk right in to what seems to be rapidly turning into a hostage situation.

"Beckett, I think this bank is being robbed."

"Really? Are you that bored?" She says sardonically, and he takes a few steps closer to the window. Not enough that he can be seen from inside, and not enough that he can see his mother. God, he hopes she's okay. Hopes that for once, she won't try to make herself the centre of attention.

Rick clears his throat and scrubs his free hand down his face, presses three fingers to his mouth. It's completely surreal, watching what's happening inside of the bank through the glass as if it's playing out on a movie screen in front of him instead of here in the real world.

"There are four people, dressed in scrubs, armed, and they have everyone down on the floor." He says slowly, knowing it's important that he give Kate as much detail as possible so that she can pass it on to dispatch.

"Where are you?"

"I'm at the New Amsterdam Bank and Trust on Lex." He says, feeling his knees start to sag.

Through the panicked fog of his brain, he hears Kate calling out across the bullpen, asking Esposito to call dispatch. There are more sounds, the far-off gruff of Sito's voice, and then Kate comes back to him sharp and clear. "Castle, can you see what's happening?"

"Some of it, yes. They've taken everyone's cell phones. And the manager's key. One of them is heading for the back of the bank. I don't- Kate. My mother is still inside."

Beckett makes a strangled noise of terror across the phone line and Rick stumbles backwards away from the bank. If they start. . .he doesn't want to watch. "We have squad cars heading your way. I'm leaving right now, I'll be with you in ten."

"Okay." He breathes out, desperately needing her. Anything. Her hand in his or the scent of her perfume or just the length of her body next to him to keep him from keeling over in front of everyone. "Kate. My mom."

"I know. Rick, listen to me." His first name rolling off of her tongue stops him cold and he leans heavy against the wall, smooth black granite at his back as he sucks in a breath through his teeth. "Please don't do anything stupid. Don't try to play the hero. Cops are on their way, and remember. . .I need you."

"I won't. I won't." He grits out, closing his eyes again. It's all just so very confusing. His mother is a hostage inside the bank (_nightmare_) but Kate Beckett has said twice now that she needs him (_dream_). None of it seems real, and Rick holds a hand out in front of himself, swipes as if he could tear through the fabric of his dreamscape.

Nothing, obviously, so he barrels down the steps instead to meet the squad cars that are already pulling up outside of the building. "Kate. Cops are here."

"Good. I have to hang up now, but I'll be there soon. Just sit tight, okay?" She murmurs to him, and it must be rhetorical because she ends their call before he even manages to figure out what components his mouth is made up of, never mind how to actually use them to make words.

His guts are heavy with sick, dreadful fear, but there are also starbursts of relief burning through him. Kate is coming. And with her here, he knows it will all be okay.

* * *

><p>Illegally double parking her cruiser, Kate just about topples out of the door and into the flow of traffic that winds past the bank. She regains her composure, glancing sidewards just to check that no one saw, and hurries around her car towards the epicentre of the action. The S.W.A.T team is setting up a perimeter and Beckett flashes the badge at her hip and ducks around the blue barricade, striding across the forecourt.<p>

As a detective, her first port of call should be the S.W.A.T van, to see how she might be of assistance to the captain managing the situation. But technically, she's not here as a detective; there's no need for homicide to be here right now. It takes her maybe half a second to spot Castle, back behind one of the S.W.A.T barriers, and her heart cries out at the sight of him right as he spots _her_ and his whole face breaks open with relief and gratitude both.

"Kate!" He calls out, even though she's already halfway to being at his side. At the barricade, Castle makes to step around it and join her but a uniform splays a firm hand against his chest and holds him back. From the look on Castle's face, it isn't the first time his attempts to join the action have been thwarted so far today.

Rolling her eyes at the overzealous uniformed officer, Kate flashes her badge again and reaches out a hand, her fingers curling at Castle's bicep to draw him close to her. "He's with me."

"Sorry, Detective." The uniform mutters, dropping his head and having the good grace to look thoroughly chastened. Beckett huffs but doesn't deign to respond. Technically her colleague hasn't done anything wrong; in fact, she's relieved that security is so tight, that the cesspit of civilian hysteria is kept carefully back behind the police tape.

Kate tugs her partner with her, a little way away from the noise and the commotion, and she steps in close, smoothes the lapel of his suit jacket down flat with her thumb where it's gotten a little crooked. "Hey. How are you?"

Her words swirl in the space between their bodies, made liquid in a sliver only enough to let the light through. Castle sucks a breath through his teeth, dips his head to avoid her eyes even as thick fingers push their way between her own, a chokehold. "Kate. My mom."

"I know. I know." Beckett says, the gaping maw of total uselessness snapping at her heels. She would give her own self, go into that bank in Martha's place if only to take that look off of his face. "Castle-"

"Don't. Please don't tell me that it's going to be okay. Just. . .how can we be useful?" He gruffs out, peeling himself away from her. Their hands stay knotted together and truly, she's so grateful. Anything she can do, even just the quasi-soothing brush of her palm against his; she will give freely of herself to keep him standing.

"Let's go find the command station. Figure out what's going on."

When they spill through the doors, Castle's body hot and close at her back, the captain looks up at her and already she knows they aren't welcome here. He's a short man, wide-set and something in the hold of his shoulders makes her bristle and stand taller.

"Who are you?"

"Detective Kate Beckett, homicide. This is my partner, Rick Castle." Beckett says, hackles rising. And then Castle's hand comes to her waist, somehow underneath of both her blazer and the soft cotton shirt she picked out this morning. Their walk to the command post made her heart thrash in her chest - the snipers lining the rooftops nearby tracked her and Castle like ants underneath a microscope - and now his fingers are brushing over her bare skin and she truly can't stay standing much longer.

Unfortunately, the captain doesn't give her any time to pull herself together. Kate reaches back behind herself and circles Castle's wrist with two fingers, squeezes tight for just a moment before she tugs his hand away from her. They can't do this, touch like this, in front of the captain. Or, really, at all. There are walls, protocol. A hundred flimsy reasons they have to maintain their aura of platonic affection.

"I'll be sure to call if someone dies. Meanwhile, I need you to step outside."

"No, sir. Castle's mother is in that bank. He was too, right before the suspects locked it down." Kate hastens to explain. She doesn't like this man, not one bit, but she can be civil. He's curt, and rude, but he's also their only hope of getting Martha out safely.

"We had a cop in there?"

Castle grimaces and steps around from behind her, his shoulder bumping against hers as he settles at her side instead. "I'm a. . .civilian investigator. But yes, I was inside right before. Beckett and I were on the phone when they took over the bank. I watched from outside."

"Okay." The captain says, sucking his teeth a moment. "What did you see?"

It's only when Castle pulls out a chair and sinks into it that Kate realises the terror that floods his system. They have this rapport, Castle and his mother, this jovial teasing that so rarely dissolves into real affection, but he does love her. Martha lives with him, for goodness sake.

"There were four of them, dressed in doctor's scrubs."

Beckett takes a step closer to Castle's chair, has to battle with herself not to drop her hand to the top of his shoulder and let her fingertips knead gently at the thick rope of muscle there. Here in front of the captain whose name she still doesn't know, she wants to appear as professional as she possibly can, even if that means comforting Castle has to fall to the wayside.

"Could you tell anything about their demeanour?" The captain seems marginally more interested now, less of that cutting disinterest that came up like a wall when they first stepped inside the command post.

Castle glances up at her, just for a moment, and she offers him a nod. "They seemed calm, methodical. Professional, even."

"Thanks for the intel. We'll do everything we can to get your mom out safe."

"Okay, so what's our next move?" Kate throws out, her spine straightening out underneath the captain's hard stare. Like hell is she giving up here.

"Well your next move is to leave my command post." Beckett opens her mouth in protest, sees Castle stiffen in his seat, but the captain ploughs right through them like. . .well. He sort of reminds her of a rhinoceros. "You want to help Castle's mom? Let me do my job."

Kate blanches and moves her hand, strokes her fingers through the baby soft hairs at Castle's nape to soothe him. She knows her partner, knows how the desire to be useful must be crushing him, and even though she is so far over their usual boundaries right now, he needs the comfort of her touch. And the captain is no longer watching.

"Get a line into that bank. I want to talk to this guy." The captain turns back around to stare at her and Kate rolls her shoulders back, her feet widening automatically into a defensive stance. "You missed your cue, Detective."

Eyes rolling, Kate scrapes together half of a nod to give the captain - he is, after all, her superior - and tugs gently on Castle's ear to get him to stand. "Come on, Castle. Let's see if we can't be useful elsewhere."

* * *

><p>The boys are heading towards them, sympathy and determination in flux between them, but Rick really can't right now. He needs the solace of the love of his life, the cove of her arms, and so as they stumble down the steps of the command post together he reaches out for her and brings her with him around the back of the trailer, away from prying eyes.<p>

Kate stops and quirks an eyebrow at him but he keeps right on moving, momentum carrying him straight into a hug. Both of his arms loop low around her waist and she stills for just a moment, breath caught up in silvery nets before she goes limp and her arms draw tight at his shoulders.

"Shh, Castle." She soothes, her fingers stroking at his ear and through his hair. Hardly any time at all has passed since she said she needs him, but now here he is almost on his knees with how desperately he needs _her_. "You're okay."

He lets himself have a moment, nose pressed against the crease of her neck where the sweet smell of her gets trapped, and then he straightens up again. "Yeah. I'm okay. Thank you, for coming down here."

"Where else would I be? I love your mom." Kate huffs out, and he can't help but wonder. She loves his mother, loves his daughter. What does that mean for him?

Now is quite clearly not the time to dwell on it, but he finds himself tangled in yearning nonetheless. For a moment outside of the chaos, to frame her face in his hands and strip back the layers of meaning everything is imbued with. "Still. Thank you."

"Come on. Let's go find the guys." Beckett murmurs, curling her fingers into his pocket to lead him out from behind the trailer with her. The boys are waiting just a few feet away, pretend to busy themselves with their phones, and he doesn't recall ever having been so grateful for their delightfully tactless way of giving him and Kate space.

Ryan is the first to spot them, an elbow jarring into Esposito's ribs as he strides to meet them in the middle. "What did you find out?"

"That our services aren't needed." Kate says darkly, and Rick has to bite back an entirely inappropriate bubble of laughter. It's true that she and Gates have yet to find their common ground, but he doesn't think he's ever seen her clash so instantaneously or so brutally as she had done with the captain in charge of the situation in the bank. "Espo, do you still have buddies in ESU?"

"Of course."

"Good. I want to know what they know." Beckett bites at her lip, shoots a glance at him from the corner of her eye. "And let's get a hold of Major Crimes. Find out if there are any other robberies with similar M.O.s. The more we know about these guys, the more leverage we got."

From behind them, someone calls her name and Kate wheels around to see. An officer is leaning out of the open door of the S.W.A.T van and he beckons to her. "Captain Peterson would like a word."

Well. At least now they have a name for the terrifying little man charged with saving the life of Castle's mother, along with all the other hostages. Beckett is heading for the van already and Rick follows right at her heel, wanting so badly to keep her close.

"Tell me Detective, what were you thinking?" Peterson says the moment Kate comes through the door, and she freezes so suddenly that Castle almost walks right into her, catching himself at the last second with both hands falling heavy at her hips.

So maybe he didn't really catch himself at all.

"I was just trying to help out, Sir." Kate says, dipping her head. He truly hates this apologetic, cringing version of her, and even more so hates Captain Peterson for doing it to her in the first place.

Peterson huffs, shaking his head, and Castle is filled with the irrational urge to step in front of his partner. "I get the bank robber on the horn, but before I can get two words out he's asking for you by name, telling me he only wants to speak to you. You wanted in? Well, you're in."

"No, sir, I don't have any training in hostage negotiations." Beckett stammers out, half turning over her shoulder to look at Rick. For his part, he dismantles all of the usual barriers that he keeps in place so as not to overwhelm her, lets her see the absolute depth of his belief in her.

"Well, I don't have time to give you a seminar, so think of it like this. You do the opposite of whatever your homicide training tells you, okay? So don't yell, don't bully, don't threaten them in any way. It's all about keeping 'em calm." A pause, where Peterson's eyes rake over her in assessment. "Detective, you up for this?"

"Yeah. Yeah, absolutely." Kate says, sliding her jacket off of her shoulders. Castle takes it from her, folding it over his forearm and deciding that, for now, the best course of action is to shut up. If there's anyone in the world he trusts with his mother's life, it's Kate Beckett; he can sit quietly and watch her work her detective magic.

Even if she does look terrified right now.

"Now, it's important to keep 'em talking. You gotta build report. As long as he's busy talking, he's not busy hurting hostages."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Mm-hmm." Kate murmurs, and even Peterson - who has only known her for a half hour - must be able to tell how scared she is.

Beckett settles into a chair and Rick sinks down next to her. The captain's gaze is hard across their shoulders, makes Castle want to curl up into himself, and his empty fingers flutter down by his thigh. And just next to him, splayed at the armrest of her seat, the slender lines of Kate's own fingers twitch too.

The phone rings twice and then there's a click as someone answers, a hard-edged voice coming across the line into Kate's earpiece and through the speakers both. "Who's this?"

"This is Detective Kate Beckett. I understand that you wanted to speak with me?"

"Yeah, I don't like that other guy." Rick chokes on a burst of laughter, manages to keep it mostly silent and carefully doesn't look at Peterson.

"Yeah, me neither." Beckett says, and Castle winces. Jeez, Kate, the man is right there. Peterson lifts his eyebrows, mouth stitched into a tightly puckered seam, and Beckett lifts a shoulder in a half shrug, a hand coming up to cover her mouthpiece. "You said to build a rapport."

Peterson tilts his head in acquiescence and Kate drops her hand, refocuses her attention on the bank robber on the other end of the phone line. "So, what's your name?"

"You can call me Trapper John."

"A M*A*S*H fan, nice." Beckett says, glancing sideways at Castle. He's trying to be optimistic, really he is, but his mother is currently being held captive by someone calling himself Trapper John and he's really failing to see the humour in it. "So why did you want to speak with me in particular."

"One of my hostages got to talking. Said that her son's partner is a detective with the NYPD. I thought that would be a good place to start."

Oh jeez. Of course his mother would run her mouth about Kate, would bring attention to herself. Martha Rodgers has never been one to give in and go quietly. He just hopes that this isn't her encore performance.

"That's right." Beckett is saying, carefully neutral. "So, anything I can do to help?"

"Oh, Kate, Kate, Kate. You're running that idiot's playbook, aren't you? What did Captain Confidence tell you? Keep me calm. Build rapport. Extract information." Castle glances sideways at his partner, hoping that she's feeling more confident than he is right now. Beckett looks startled though, thrown by the fact that the bank robber knows protocol exactly.

"Here's how it's gonna work. You lie to me, I kill hostages. You jerk me around, I kill hostages. If you storm the bank, I kill hostages. And Kate-" Trapper John pauses, and Rick has just enough time to swallow back the clog of terror and feel it sink into his guts. "I'll start with your mother-in-law."


	2. Chapter 2

**Kenopsia**

* * *

><p>Oh. <em>Oh<em>. When Castle's mother mentioned her son's _partner_, the bank robbers must have assumed that. . .that things between him and Kate are more than is true, are everything he's wanted. A crackle of tension rips through his jaw as he waits for Kate to rebuff the suspect, correct him.

Only, she doesn't. She doesn't. She lets Trapper John think that _his_ mother is _her_ mother-in-law, that she and Rick are married. His head whips around and he stares at her, open-mouthed, but Beckett has already been drawn in to conversation with Captain Peterson, letting the whole thing slide as if it isn't on a grandiose level of amazing.

"Well, we learned one thing."

With some trepidation, Rick forces himself to realign his brain and focus on Beckett and Peterson and their conversation. Kate's brow furrows and she knots her fingers together, underneath the desk where only Castle is able to see. "What's that?"

"He's not a punk who just woke up and decided to rob a bank. He knows what he's doing. He knows our playbook. This guy's a pro." Peterson glances over his shoulder at the officer on Rick's other side, an elbow braced against the filing cabinets that line one side of the van. "S.W.A.T. tap into the cameras at the bank yet?"

"Still working on it, Sir. Also, there's a Susan Craig for the bank's green branch on line four."

Beckett gets to her feet and rounds the chair, taking a few steps closer to Peterson, but Rick really doesn't have the strength to follow her lead right now. The seat beneath him is just about the only thing keeping him glued to the face of the earth and he doesn't trust his own legs anymore, but Kate is spitfire enough for the both of them. "Sir, what do you want us to do?"

"Nothing." Peterson says, curt with Beckett once again. Rick can sympathise, almost; a Kate Beckett on a mission can be bullheaded and difficult to corral. Sometimes the only way to make her listen is to be blunt.

"I'm sorry?"

"It's not a homicide, Detective. It's not all about moving forward or digging for the next clue. Here, sometimes no move is the best move. Let Trapper John think about things and then we'll call him back."

His partner barely even attempts to curtail her frustration, or hide it from anyone that may care to look, but Rick is almost relieved. Yes, he would love for progress to be made, for his mother to walk out of that bank right now with her jewellery clanging as she throws her hands in the air and recounts her ordeal, but that was never going to be the way that it happened.

Peterson is confident, his barrel chest puffed up with pride and a refusal to fail, and Rick trusts him. Less than Kate; of course, always, less than Kate, but that faith is there nonetheless. Although, even with that confidence in the police, confidence that has been unwavering since he fell in love with one of New York's finest, he's so completely terrified.

They play it off, talk around it, but he adores his mother. If he loses her now. . .he can't be an orphan. He can't do that.

Blood running hot, Rick scrapes a hand down his face, feeling like sandpaper and brine. From her peripheral vision Kate must see his rapid decline because she nudges her elbow into his temple - gently; she may be a warrior but she's never cruel - and mutters to him. "Let's go catch up with the boys. See what they've managed to find."

Rick peels himself up out of the chair and follows his partner to the door and outside, stumbling down the steps until his feet hit the ground. And he really does fall, right into Beckett and she half turns to catch him, her gasp curling out along the ridge of his jaw.

So achingly close, and he doesn't have the energy to put that careful distance between them. Not now. It has to be her, but Kate seems in no hurry to move away. Her fingers wrap around his bicep and she squeezes, her thumb circling at the inside of his arm. It's strange, and erotic, and not at all helping to keep him together.

"Kate." He grits out through teeth wired closed, and that at least has her hand dropping away from him. "Is this my fault?"

Her eyebrows come slamming down over her eyes at that and she takes a step towards the side of the S.W.A.T van, brings him with her without touching him at all. Just the way they're laced together is enough to make him echo her movement.

"What are you talking about? Why would it be your fault?"

When he swallows his throat seems sticky, eager to remain closed and the membranes of fear take a moment to separate and let him speak. "I called you. If I hadn't, maybe they would have come and gone before the cops showed up."

"No, Castle. When Espo called dispatch, they already had squad cars en route because the robbers pulled the bottom bills from the cash drawer and triggered the silent alarm. This is not your fault." Kate holds his gaze ferociously, dipping her head to follow him when he stares down at the almost-touch of their toes. "Okay?"

"You have to get them out, Beckett."

He doesn't mean to do it, put that on her, and Kate's whole face washes through with panic and guilt. Even her mouth - her gorgeous, enticing mouth - blanches grotesquely until it's an ugly slash. "Castle. . .I promise you that I will do anything I can. I won't stop trying."

"I know. I'm so glad you're here." His voice is giving up on him entirely now, all of the breath support gone from his words. The mottled gunflint of the sky behind Kate seems cataclysmic and Rick focuses on her instead, studies all of the familiar angles of her face.

Knowing Kate Beckett is a craft, his life's work, but today he begins again anew. "Hey. I'm your partner, Rick. We're going to get through this together."

He manages a nod for her effort, and the brash tones of Esposito's voice are a good enough excuse to remain mute. "Hey, you two."

"Anything?" Hope opens Kate up for a brief moment and she turns over her shoulder to glance at Rick, drag him up towards the light and the surface with her.

Espo cracks a grin and claps Castle on the shoulder. "Some good news. CSU managed to get eyes inside the bank. Not in the main concourse, but we've got a visual on the back rooms. Hopefully that'll give us some idea of what's happening."

"So are they gonna storm the bank?" Beckett asks, lifting an eyebrow at Esposito. A breath catches in Castle's throat and she takes a step closer to him as if in comfort.

A curt shake of the head, and Sito does look genuinely sorry. "No. Without eyes on the main part of the building, they'd still be going in blind."

"And, in your experience, in this scenario, what are the hostages' chances of survival?"

He knows she has to ask, that it's her job, but Rick' stomach lurches and he has to lean back against the side of the S.W.A.T command station. Esposito glances towards the bank and then back at Kate, and Castle shoves his fists down into the pockets of his pants and refuses to look at either of them.

Their silent conversation about his mother's fate can go unwitnessed.

* * *

><p>"Kate?" Castle says from the chair next to her, and she spins around to look at him. He's ashen and still.<p>

After her semester in Kiev, Kate did a brief tour of Europe with a gaggle of her friends and even all these years later she can remember so vividly the hushed awe that descended over their group in Pompeii. It had taken a chokehold of her, standing humbled in front of people long dead but still here, faces contorted in grief and agony. Her friends had seemed to shake it off after they left, content to lounge by the pool for the rest of the afternoon, but Kate hadn't been able to forget the spectre of that city.

And now Castle, the man towards whom she has looked for laughter and comfort both, seems as locked-in as those plastercast echoes of the dead. There's no comfort to be offered here. Not in the loss of a mother. Kate is hopeful that Martha will walk out of this unscathed and alight with jubilation, but if she doesn't. . .

At least Kate knows what it is to have a mother snatched away. At least for Castle she can be a comfort and a guidance, in the way his books were for her all those many years ago.

"Yes?" She murmurs back to him, her eyes returning to the camera footage of the bank's belly. One of the robbers pulled out a safe deposit box and removed letters and photos, and they're waiting on someone to tell them who the box belongs to.

It's brutal, being largely useless; she can't imagine how Castle is faring. From the sound of him, not so well. "Do you want a coffee?"

"That would be great. Thank you."

He nods, gets up from his seat and Kate watches him go with her heart turning over in her throat. All day, even with the stress of Trapper John only wanting to speak with her and her worry for Martha, Kate has been so desperately relieved that Castle got out in time.

The thought of it has her trembling in her seat and Kate sits on her hands to keep them still and to hide them from Captain Peterson. He's on the phone with one of the bank's managers at the moment, but it would be just her luck for him to notice that she's losing it.

Foolish though it may be, she wishes she hadn't let Castle go get her coffee. The sight of him safe next to her would do more to soothe her fraying axons than any reassurance she tries to offer her own stupid self.

"It's box 120." Peterson says, and Kate jerks hard and bites her lip when she realises he's talking to her. "Suspect used both keys."

"Maybe that's why they took the bills from the cash drawer." Kate muses. She's been wondering about that all morning; these guys are professionals, why would they do something so foolish? "To buy themselves some time. The keys don't have numbers on them, so Trapper John would have to try every box before he found the right one."

"Captain, it's him." One of the officers on Kate's other side cuts in and she stands.

"Remember the strategy." Peterson gruffs at her and she mutters her agreement as she fixes in the earpiece and steels herself. If this goes wrong it's on her, and she cannot fail her partner like that.

"Hey, how's it going?" She feels like an idiot, talking so casually with a man who has the power to take apart Castle's world and, by extension, her own too.

"So far so good."

Well. Fantastic. She's glad at least one person in this whole cesspit of a situation is having a good time. Kate shuffles the papers in front of her, seeks out the details of one of the bank employees that is currently inside. "Yeah? And how are the hostages? Pretty concerned about the pregnant bank teller, Simone. It's kind of a stressful situation, might want to get her out of there."

"No, no, no, Kate. You gotta give before you can receive." God _damn it_. She _is_ giving. Perhaps Trapper John is not astute enough to realise it, but it's truly a gift that she hasn't strolled through those doors and detained him herself. She would do it, to take the terror off of Castle's face.

Do anything. And she finds she's no longer afraid of him figuring that out.

Clearing her throat, Kate watches Castle reappear in the corner of her vision and has to turn away so she can focus on the criminal she's supposed to be negotiating with. "Okay, what would you like?"

Coffee delivered into the cup of her palm and Castle's fingers stroking a moment over hers, Beckett is fortified against whatever Trapper John might want from her.

"A bus with tinted windows. It'll take me, my partners, and my hostages to Teterboro airport. There you're gonna have a plane waiting to take us to the foreign country of my choosing." Kate watches Peterson for some clue of what to do here. No way they can concede to these demands, but she doesn't know how to diffuse the situation. "Now, you do that, I give you the knocked up bank teller. Once we land in paradise, I'll release the rest of the hostages. And Kate, you got three hours."

There's a click as Trapper John hangs up, and Castle lets out a long and weather-torn sigh. It startles her; she didn't know he was standing so close. Close enough that a half step to the side would have their bodies brushing.

"Alright, Monfriez, find me a bus with tinted windows and get it over here." Peterson says to one of his officers, and Castle grunts in surprise.

The only thing that stops Kate from echoing him are her years of ruthless practice at suppressing her instinctual reactions. "Wait a minute, you're actually giving him what he wants?"

"Of course not. The only way that guy's leaving that building is either in handcuffs or a body bag. But if it comes to it, I can use that bus to lure the robbers out, have snipers take 'em out."

A shiver rips through her at the mention of snipers and a phantom ache roars in her chest, her scar suddenly molten. She forces it down, steadfastly ignores the concern that rolls off of her partner and threatens to chew on her marrow. "In the meantime, what about the safe deposit box?"

"Safe deposit box 120 belongs to a married couple, Agnes and Gideon Fields." Monfriez says to her, and she feels the scope and the heat of Castle's interest like a flare, a sudden wave of scalding enthusiasm. This is something they can investigate, a way to be useful.

"Anything special about the box?" Peterson doesn't seem anywhere close to as interested as Beckett and Castle are, but then she supposes that he doesn't revel in the mystery the way that she does. They do, together.

"No, just that bank records show they both access it monthly."

"I'll get my team to check it out." Kate says, earning herself a nod of acquiescence from the captain. Nudging her elbow into Castle's bicep, she tips her head towards the door and strides towards it, trusting him to follow.

Outside, the clouds have burned away with the heat of late October and the sky is a soft blue sweep above. The boys are hovering over near the perimeter that the S.W.A.T guys set up and they glance up at Kate and Castle's approach.

Ryan, bless him, fixes his face into a smile that - perhaps supposed to be reassuring - verges on uncomfortable. "Hey guys. What's happening?"

"The robbers have accessed a safe deposit box, number 120. It belongs to a married couple, Agnes and Gideon Fields. Could you-?"

"On it." Esposito cuts in as Ryan scribbles down what little information they have onto the pad of paper he keeps in his jacket pocket. The boys stride away, heading for their car, and next to Kate, Castle sways as if he might fall down.

Suddenly remembering the coffee still in her hand, Kate takes a sip and lets her eyes flutter closed, humming her pleasure. It's not particularly more delicious than any other coffee he's ever brought for her, but she knows what it does to him to hear her moan.

She's not an idiot; she knows he's transposing the context and removing her clothes in some baser part of his brain. "Thank you for this."

"Hey," he chuffs, shrugging at her. "I might fail my mother, but I won't fail you."

Okay. Enough.

"Castle." He's staring at his feet again, like he has been all day, and she misses his eyes on hers so desperately that she finds herself reaching for his hand. It snaps his gaze up to her face and he stares at her, slack-jawed. "_Rick_. You're not failing anyone. Your mother knows that you'll do whatever you can to get her out of there."

"I'm scared, Kate."

Before she really knows that it's happening, Kate's arms slide around his waist and she holds on tight, lets the weight of his body sag against her. "I know you are. You're not alone in this, Castle. I'm right here."

"Thank you." He whispers against the side of her face, and she feels the brush of his lashes over her cheekbone as his eyes close. A hand comes up and hovers at his neck, wanting desperately to card her fingers through his hair but so very afraid, too.

What does all of this touching mean for them? When they come out of the other side with Martha in one piece, Kate doesn't want to have to stop offering him as much of herself as she can. It feels so damn good to just let go of her trepidation and give in to how much she cares about him.

Loves him, really.

"Let's go see if Peterson knows anything more." She says quietly, stepping out of their hug and squeezing his fingers a moment. Just until he looks like he's ready, and then she strides across the forecourt with him stitched to her heel.

* * *

><p>When Kate's phone rings, she finds herself inordinately glad that Rick has gone to pick up lunch for them both and so he isn't here to listen to this.<p>

"Looks like the owner of our safety deposit box has been dead maybe a week. Ligature marks on her neck indicate strangulation." Esposito tells her, and her eyes slam closed. Another victim of this whole horrible situation, and it will be that much harder to get to the root of what's going on without Agnes to clue them in.

Swallowing back her momentary grief for the poor dead woman and the loved ones stranded behind, Kate ploughs on with her job. "What'd you find at the crime scene?"

"Place is trashed. Killer was looking for something. There's a broken key chain necklace on the body, but there's no key."

"Okay," Kate chews at her lip, taking a few steps further away from the chaos at her back. She walked Castle to the perimeter of the bank, wanting him close for as long as possible, and then she just couldn't face climbing back inside of that van. Mayhem rains on her shoulders, but the open air is an infinitely better option. "That might've been where she kept the key for the safe deposit box."

"I don't get it. This is a little old retired librarian. What could possibly be in her safe deposit box that would be worth doing all this?"

"Nazi gold, cold fusion, map to Atlantis." Ryan's voice rings out, and Kate has to sink her teeth into the unravelling curve of her bottom lip.

"Hey, Castle Jr., could you maybe start thinking like a cop, please?" Oh, poor Esposito. He doesn't do well with the more fanciful theories that their team bounces around. Reminds Kate very much of herself a couple years ago, back when she was bristly and Castle was just annoying.

"I am."

"Are you?"

"It had to have been something huge that was worth killing her over, right? Hey, Super Cop, check it out."

Kate lifts an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"It's a bug. It's not from a spy shop either, this looks professional." She nods, eyes scanning the mess of people that seethes behind the police barrier and alighting on Castle's daughter.

The wan moon of Alexis' face stands out against the shock of her hair and Kate curtails her boys before they can suck her in to further conversation. "Listen, I need you to dig up everything you can on Agnes Fields. I gotta go."

"They're here, aren't they?" Her partner's daughter spits out as soon as Kate gets within audible range. She comes around the barrier like a tempest, stretching upward until she's almost as tall as Beckett. "My dad and Gram are in there. I know they were coming to this bank-"

"Alexis-" Kate cuts in, ready to reassure the girl that her father will be back within five minutes with lunch, that he's safe.

"And now no one's answering their phones, and my dad always takes my calls."

"Listen to me." Beckett implores, but Castle's daughter is truly living up to the temperament her hair would suggest, barrelling onward with barely a glance to spare for Kate.

"And you're here." She finishes finally, releasing a long breath and seeming to deflate.

Reaching out, Kate smoothes a hand over Alexis' forearm for just a moment. Her relationship with her partner's daughter has been brittle at best since she was shot, but these Castles thrive on the comfort of physical contact and it's so easy for her to give. "Listen, listen. Everything is gonna be fine, okay? But your grandmother is inside that bank."

"And my dad?" The girl frowns, and Kate beams. Relief makes her silly and weak-kneed, means she can't help but smile with the knowledge that, at least today, she doesn't lose her partner.

"He went to get lunch. He'll be back any minute." Her words are barely out before Alexis is barrelling into her, both arms tight around Beckett's waist. It hurts - her scar is still angry and Castle is the only one that seems to realise it, holds her like she's something precious - but Kate gives the hug right back.

Over top of Alexis' head Beckett sees her partner striding his way through the crowds of people, New Yorkers and tourists both, that have shown up to watch the slow-motion car crash of the hostage standoff. It takes him a moment to notice them, so distracted is he with navigating through the swarm of bodies, but then he does and his step falters, total stillness descending for a moment.

And then his face comes apart around that beautiful smile she loves so much and he hurries the rest of the way to them, holding a finger over his mouth to signal to Kate to stay quiet. He taps Alexis on the shoulder and she wheels around, gasping at the sight of him and wrapping her arms tight around his neck.

"Daddy!" She breathes, and Kate is about to take a couple steps back in deference to this father-daughter moment when Castle disentangles an arm from around his little girl and hooks it around Beckett's shoulders, pulling her into the hug as well.

His mouth settles against the crown of his daughter's head and Kate lets her eyes close, lets this family hold her close for just a little while. "My girls." Castle says quietly, and Kate goes totally still for a moment, before his fingers tighten at her bicep and she relaxes again.

It's. . .a lot. But not untrue. She is his girl, and they both know it. That day on the swings she told him so, asked him to wait for her with the smallest cluster of words she could get away with. And if what he needs now is for her to concede to it, for her to be his? That's what she'll do.


End file.
